


Lost in a Reverie

by solemnwar



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Light Angst, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 12:42:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6424606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solemnwar/pseuds/solemnwar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hancock thinks about his relationship with the wildfire masquerading as a human being.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost in a Reverie

            Hancock was not a man to reserve himself. If he wanted something, he took it. Within reason, of course. No scum-sucking raider, he, stealing and killing innocents. But if someone was causing problems, well, best to take them out. And if he wanted to take five mentats with a chaser of jet, who the fuck was going to stop him? The only thing keeping him from descending into pure hedonism was the fact there was an entire community depending on him to keep them safe.

            Even reviewing the events over and over he _still_ wasn’t sure how the fuck that happened. He was certainly no politician. Not like his brother. He just wanted those who didn’t have a chance to... well, have a chance.

            Funny how things worked out.

            He had been getting comfortable in his role as mayor, until a thin, redheaded storm blasted through Goodneighbor leaving chaos in her wake. She had stood up to Finn like he was a nobody, wasted the Triggermen in the warehouses like they were made of paper, waltzed in and out of the Pickman Gallery like it was nothing...

            ...and she’d killed Fahrenheit.

            She hadn’t even been sorry about it, paying mere lip service when he had confronted her about it. And with soft green eyes burning into him with an iron will and a few pretty words coming from a prettier mouth she’d haggled down her debt to almost nothing, to _petty change_. And while he couldn’t confirm it, he was certain she’d lied about taking care of Bobby like she was supposed to have done to clean the slate.

            He had found himself not caring overmuch.

            She was endlessly fascinating, this Valerie. A relic of the Pre-War times, searching for her lost son and vengeance for her murdered husband. He expected such a person to be uptight, serious, grim. But she defied such expectations, being eternally sarcastic and charming, a force of personality that rivalled, and possibly outmatched, his own. She could convince anyone of anything, string together the flimsiest of lies and have people believing them as if presented with cold, concrete truth. Even super mutants could be brought to heel by this bombshell of a woman, and if they couldn’t... well, she was no slouch with a weapon, either.

            And she was almost as good at taking chems as he was. Almost. Alcohol was nothing to her, but enough med-x had her falling flat on her face in a giggling lump before passing out for 12 hours straight. Her favourite past time was to take a hit of jet and run and jump around the wasteland, and more than once he’d had to grab her and drag her back before she sent herself flying off a height she’d sorely misjudged in her drug-addled state.

            After having to do that around five times, he made sure to stay mostly sober when she started hitting jet.

            He’d wanted to know everything about her, be with her every waking moment. He wasn’t the only one; she had that effect on people. You either _hated_ her or you _loved_ her, there was no middle ground. There were times he wanted to shake her senseless, at her foolhardiness and willingness to run head-first into danger, with little thought to her safety or to the safety of others (namely, _his_ , but her other travelling companions had similar complaints). But then she’d turn those soft eyes on him and smile and any ill feelings dried up like puddles in the summer sun.

            They’d flirted shamelessly, of course, but as she flirted shamelessly with _everyone_ he hadn’t thought it to be anything serious on her part. Even when she’d cuddle up to him during the cold wasteland nights, he didn’t _dare_ think of it as anything more. She was beautiful and vibrant and could have any man or woman that she wanted— she would never settle for a hideous ghoul. He told himself to be content with her companionship.

            _When’d you become such a coward?_ He could almost hear Fahrenheit say to him. He wished she were still alive, maybe she’d slap some sense into him.  Literally.

            Despite his insistence to himself that he cared for her only as a friend and that was all they would ever be and not to think of more, it had hurt deeply when he’d heard that she and MacCready were lovers. _You have no right to be hurt,_ he scolded himself. _Neither you nor she have ever mentioned anything beyond friendship, so stop feeling sorry for yourself._

            It didn’t really work, much to his annoyance.

            Eventually, bottling up his feelings was such a torment he felt he had to say _something_. Maybe not a love confession, but at least letting her know that he cared about her and would stick by her side. He’d emptied his feelings out to her, about his insecurities and how he was always running away from himself.

            It felt good, releasing all the thoughts that had been pent up for years, and even if she didn’t love him like he loved _her_ , she understood him. Normally crass and sarcastic to the point of rudeness (sometimes _well past_ said point), she’d given him a soft little smile and taken his hand and assured him that she was there.

            “I don’t know if you understand what that means to me,” he’d said to her. “Throwing in with you has been the best decision I’ve ever made. It’s like I found a part of myself I never realised was missing... which happens sometimes, when you’re a ghoul.” He’d intended for levity, but she’d taken on a very serious expression. Green eyes had watched him intently, as if...waiting for something. “If I hadn’t taken up with you, I’d probably be in a gutter somewhere, getting gnawed on by Radroaches. _You_ have been one hell of a friend.”

            She’d frowned, then, brows knit together, looking upset and he’d been _terrified_ that he’d stepped across some line, insulted her. Valerie was all over the place, personality wise, and even after knowing her for months he still couldn’t quite pin down her likes and dislikes, so who even knew?

            He’d been about to say something, although now he couldn’t remember what it had been, when her expression changed to a soft, uncertain countenance, looking down at her hands instead of him. “Have you ever thought about us as maybe...” her voice had caught, tripping over the words, and he’d gone absolutely still. “Maybe more... than just friends?”

            _There is no possible way she means what I think she means... could she?_ He’d thought of denying it, coward that he was, but he’d already said he wouldn’t run out on her, and he didn’t want to make a liar of himself. The truth had to come out sometime. He’d chuckled, somewhat nervously. “Is it that obvious?” He’d asked with a wry smile. “But come on. You don’t want to wake up to this mug every morning.” _Don’t get my hopes up... please._ “Never wish that on anyone I cared for.”

            The familiar stubborn expression had reappeared on her face at those words, staring into him with intent eyes. “Who I fall for is _my_ decision,” she’d said firmly. “And I’ve fallen for _you_.”

            He’d stared at her a moment, mouth agape, before collecting himself. “Wouldn’t expect that kind of lapse in judgement from you,” he’d said, trying to alleviate the moment with humour again. It did not work, and his heart had been beating so loudly he was sure everyone in Goodneighbor could hear it. “But I guess that works out for me then, doesn’t it? Moments like this, I know all that karma stuff is bull. Because no one like me should be this lucky.”

            “But you’re so cute,” she’d protested, and he still wondered if excessive drug use had addled her mind.

            “But... what about... MacCready?” _Do you really want to bring this up NOW, John? Maybe let yourself bask in the moment a bit first?_

            A series of confused blinks. “What about him?”

            “Don’t you... aren’t you two lovers?” The words had left as barely a whisper.

            “Yes,” she’d said bluntly, and he could feel his little ghoulish heart trembling in panic. “But I don’t see what that has to do with us. I love him. I love you.” And then the strong facade had crumbled, just a bit, and she’d bit her lip and looked down at her hands, fingers digging into her jeans. She’d looked up with those soft, soft eyes, and she’d looked almost as uncertain as he’d been feeling. “Is that... alright?” Her voice had been so small, so soft, he could scarcely believe it was hers. “I can’t... stop loving. Can’t stop myself _from_ loving. Don’t make me choose. I _can’t_ choose.”

            _Shit, I’m happy she likes me at all. Who am I to complain about sharing?_ He had thought. “I ain’t asking you to choose, darling... just wanted to see where things stand,” he’d assured her, and she’d been so happy and relieved she’d flung her arms around him and _cried_. He’d learned then that she wasn’t nearly as tough and unflappable as she made herself out to be, and his promise not to leave was only more firmly engraved onto his heart.

            He would later find that her overgenerous heart would extend to half of the group of misfits she’d collected (Cait, then Piper, then Preston, then Curie, and after a whole bunch of nonsense with the Brotherhood of Steel, even the serious rust bucket _Danse,_ of all people), but even then, he didn’t find himself minding all that much, except that it meant spending a little less time with her than he’d like.

            Hancock watched the trail of smoke from his cigarette lift and dance before fluttering out the open window. Half the stick was almost gone, he’d so been lost in his reverie. He put it out on the nightstand, exhaling a sigh as he turned to look at Valerie’s sleeping form in his bed.

            _Yeah. Like Hell you deserve this,_ he thought to himself. _But like Hell am I ever letting her go._

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not super into the Hancock romance (I'm sorry guy I just can't help but think of bits falling off during the act) but I really do like him as a character and while doing Valerie's cheaty-mc-cheat run and romancing EVERYONE I found the romance very cute. Good thing the game lets you be with everyone with pretty much 0 conflict (Popup: Valerie loved that).
> 
> Although since she's gonna go the Railroad route ultimately things aren't gonna go well for her relationship with Danse... maybe I should write an angst fic about that 0:


End file.
